


The World's Only Living Heart Donor

by shadowolfhunter



Category: Eureka (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter
Summary: Nathan Stark is a genius, and he's also distant and calculating, a redacted scientist calls him the world's only living heart donor and it seems most of Eureka agrees. Jack Carter has cause to know different, but Nathan's recent behaviour does give him pause. Even Allison has backed away some from Nathan.It takes one of Taggart's hybrid experiments to show the town they are wrong about Nathan.





	1. Number Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TarlanX (Tarlan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



> Okay, there was supposed to be some order to this, and this story was supposed to come after a couple of the others had been finished, but this has been burning a hole in my brain since a week last Monday, so here's chapter one...

When the fuss had died down some, and Jack was seated on a gurney, waiting with Nathan to be treated, he had time to think it all through, and knew that he no longer thought of Nathan as the world’s only living heart donor, that the scientist had become as necessary to Jack as breathing and Jack Carter needed Dr Nathan Stark in his life.

That this epiphany was due, in part, to Nathan’s frankly alarming housepet, currently perched on Jack’s knee and curled into Nathan’s chest where he lay across Jack’s lap, Jack preferred not to think of. At all. That said creature was, according to its, her... creator, Taggart, only “mildly venomous” was something Jack also preferred to to think of at all.

He leant back against the wall, his injuries were light, mostly scrapes and bruises, but Nathan was hurt, and hurt bad. Nathan was on his side across Jack’s knees, his back leaning against Jack’s torso, the injured shoulder all strapped up, so he couldn’t accidentally cause further injury, the cuts on his feet had already been cleaned, debrided and bandaged. Nathan was waiting for a scan for his dislocated/fractured shoulder, and Jack was just waiting to take his scientist home.

The cat-bat, bat-cat? that was part of the equation was something else entirely. Jack was certain it was a good thing that Perdita apparently liked him. Since it was also perfectly obvious that Nathan was genuinely deeply attached to the creature, Jack wasn’t going to raise any objections. 

Perdita chittered a little, and cuddled closer to Nathan, Jack pretended not to notice the injured scientist press a kiss to her head, her purr started up again and Nathan’s free hand curled just that bit tighter around her body.

Jack slid a hand round the back of Nathan’s neck and squeezed very gently. “Pain getting worse?” He asked. Nathan nodded.

Apparently, the connection between Nathan and his bat-cat was a two-way street, because Perdita noticed Nathan’s increasing discomfort before Jack did.

There was an alarm button on the wall, and Jack reached over and pressed it, hoped that whoever answered, it wasn’t Allison. The situation was awkward enough, but Allison hated Nathan’s sort of cat, and the feeling was mutual.

As they waited for a response, Jack continued to gently rub the back of Nathan’s neck, and Perdita kept up the strange squeaky, rattle-y noise that counted as a purr, and Jack wondered how he was going to write all this down in a report that didn’t get him more psych sessions or have the DOD descend en masse to audit the town.

_Five months earlier…_

Nathan Stark dropped the pile of folders on his home office desk and slumped into his chair with a weary sigh.

A long, difficult day, with more than the usual number of crises, idiot scientists attempting to get around him, which they all (thankfully) failed to do, and Carter.

_Oh god, Carter._

Just lately the sheriff had taken up a new habit, staring at Nathan reproachfully as though Nathan had kicked his puppy, and then walking off without another word.

 _Really, what the hell did Carter actually think that Nathan could do about most of this?_ The scientist could actually see Carter’s point, albeit reluctantly, that many of these acts needed to be punished, but Nathan had little choice for he answered to the DOD. The DOD wanted results. They really did not care exactly where some of these results came from. After Jason Anderson’s exposure as a cheat, the DOD were more interested in his device and possible uses, than the man’s criminal and cruel activities. If Nathan was surprised at the resistance he met with in certain quarters to ensuring that Anderson never worked in any scientific field again, he kept that one to himself.

Anderson did not operate in Nathan’s fields of AI and Cryogenics, so it was unlikely that the man had stolen from Nathan, but that didn’t stop Nathan wondering.

Nathan eyed his pile of folders. He was tired, but these reports would not wait. Reaching up he pulled his tie loose, and then off, he’d already shed his jacket, and he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt with a weary sigh, rolled his sleeves up and reached for the first report.

He had just flipped it open, Paula Hindle, _oh god, no…_ when he heard it. Something like a sigh.

Someone, or something was here. In the room with him. Nathan tensed just a little. Someone in the room with him was not good. Without moving too quickly, he raised his eyes, preparing to move fast to get out of the way in case of any potential attack if he needed to. Then he froze.

The someone was a something.

Somewhere in the recesses of Nathan’s finely honed brain, he recalled the details of Taggart’s cat-bat hybrid experiment, the ‘kittens’ had escaped at eight weeks, and Nathan had been forced to help Carter, Taggart, Jo and Henry round them up. All sixteen of them. Except they had never found number sixteen, and Taggart had been quite broken up about it. Nathan wasn’t sure the possible uses of kittens that could fly, and were remarkably agile, not to mention feisty, he was just relieved to get fifteen of them back in the aviary that Taggart had built to study them.

Number sixteen was sitting on the shelf above his desk. Watching him.

Never taking his eyes from her, Nathan’s excellent recall was extrapolating facts even as his hand was slowly reaching out for his cell, female, only all black cat-bat, which was presumably how she had managed to evade them, all the others were various colours, Nathan recalled the ginger one he had cornered with a shudder, looked cute, but the vicious little claws had lacerated his hands when he had managed to grab hold of it, and the base of his right thumb still throbbed when he recalled the extremely sharp little fangs that had been buried in it.

That was three months ago.

His visitor had grown, she would be around five or six months now, he could still see the kittenish features, but also the promise of the full grown cat she was going to be.

Nathan quietly hit speed dial, and raised the phone slowly to his ear.

“Taggart. I’ve found your number sixteen.”

Half an hour later, Nathan was certain he had never been more irritated in his life.

He had called Taggart, who had called Jo, who had called Allison, who had called Carter (despite Carter being off duty) and now there was a crowd of people in his house. Mission to capture one cat-bat.

Mission unsuccessful.

“Dammit.” Taggart swore under his breath, as the dart flew harmlessly past and buried itself in Nathan’s office ceiling, as number sixteen did a backflip in mid air and Taggart missed for the third time.

It was Jo reaching for her hand gun that had both Nathan and Carter protesting.

“No.” Nathan had had enough, ignoring Carter’s gleeful smirking, Jo’s grumbling, Taggart’s efforts to swipe at the creature with his net, and Allison’s barely suppressed amusement at his expense, he held up a hand. “Enough. You need to leave before any of you destroy any more of my study.” He surveyed the knocked over books, the darts stuck in the ceiling, the green splats on the carpet, apparently the half-adult cat-bat could spit venom of some kind, which wasn’t something Nathan could recall in the original abstract or in any of the subsequent notes.

Allison’s amusement turned into a frown. “Nathan.” She said.

Nathan laid a hand on her arm, “no,” he said quietly, aware that Carter was close by and could easily hear him, “I’m tired, she’s had enough and before this gets any further out of hand, this needs to be over for now. I’ll shut her in here, and Taggart can have another go tomorrow,” he glared at her, “alone.”

Allison didn’t look happy, but she nodded. The crowd dispersed.

Nathan looked up at the corner of the room. Number sixteen had squashed herself into a very high corner of a shelf, behind some large heavy books on physics that Nathan rarely used. All he could see of her was one green eye that was watching him closely.

Nathan waved a hand at the mess. “I suppose you’re proud of yourself.” Aware that he was talking to a sort of cat, Nathan blushed. He must be really tired.

She emerged from behind the books and flew down to land on his desk. He slumped into his chair, watching her warily, the green splats on his carpet were still bubbling a little. She did nothing, just crouched down, folded her long tail around her body and tilted her head to one side watching him.

Feeling slightly foolish, he cautiously held out his hand, palm out, she inched closer, and then she bopped her head against his palm. 

He wasn’t a sentimental man. Since Callister’s death, and in the face of Allison’s continued indecision, he had closed down somewhat. He knew it. “I don’t have time for a pet.” He said. Although he had to admit that she had obviously been taking care of herself successfully for the last three months, she was large and well-grown, so there was a food supply that she had tapped into, and Nathan wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that was.

But there was something touching in the trust that she was showing him. The softness of the fur under his fingers, the strange squeaky, rattly noise that started up as she stepped from the desk straight into his lap, and curled up.

“Confident, aren’t you?” he said, as his hands seemed to curl of their own volition around her body, and her wings folded around herself and his hands.

Something settled inside Nathan. For the first time in a very long time he didn’t feel alone. He felt needed, and, more importantly, that another being wanted him.

He sat back, tilting the chair, his hands still wrapped around her, she was looking up at him, “I’m supposed to be working.” He told her. The head tilted again, the green eyes were watching him, and he could read the intelligence there. She was obviously smart, she had evaded Taggart in a relatively enclosed space, she had survived despite being born in a lab, and kept in a cared for environment. He rather thought he admired her spunk.

He reached for the file he had put down, inched a little closer to the desk so that he could read it, keeping one hand curled around her body, his fingers gently stroking her fur, and started reading again. Hindle was undeniably a talented scientist, but her writing was long-winded and dull, and there was something about the flirtatious way she behaved in his presence that Nathan found off putting. Still, her project had considerable merit, and as long as he managed to keep contact to a minimum he could deal with his own discomfort at her presence.

Number sixteen made herself comfortable, and purred.


	2. Seeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan and his venomous cat bond. The whole town sees.

Taggart doesn’t return the next day. Or any day after that. Nathan subtly deflected any attempts, and to all intents and purposes (Nathan’s purposes) the original intent, to capture the wily number sixteen is forgotten.

He can’t keep calling her number sixteen. He calls her Perdita. Although he can’t actually be certain if she’s the one who’s lost. He seems to have lost his mind.

She can fly, and she’s extremely agile, so he leaves his bedroom window open for her. He doesn’t need a cat flap. For lunch, she clearly makes her own arrangements, which is mildly inconvenient, because she chooses to share her kills with him. More than once he’s returned home to the carcass of a pheasant on his bed.

Nathan explains to her, that while it’s true he is not adverse to a nice bit of game, and indeed has several interesting recipes for pheasant, he would prefer it didn’t bleed all over his bed.

Having apparently got through to his alarming house guest, he then discovers she has a taste for Vincent’s cooking.

 

Vincent is naturally very happy when Doctor Stark stops by, the man’s palate is refined and he rarely chooses anything other than the special, which makes Vincent very, very happy indeed. Just lately Doctor Stark has been dropping by to order the special, and a very, very, rare, blue if you can steak, with the side of the blue cheese dressing.

It’s Zoe that discovers that the steak is for Doctor Stark’s flying cat.

 

Some lunch times, Nathan strolls down to Cafe Diem, orders whatever Vincent's genius has conjured up and a rare steak, and then the whole town is treated to the sight of Nathan Stark and his flying cat dining together. 

Nathan cuts the steak up, small pieces, and pours the blue cheese sauce over it all. He’s fairly certain that it isn’t good for Perdita to eat the sauce, but she likes it, and has no table manners. No cookbook on earth has the instructions Feed Cat First, that he’s aware of anyway. She tucks in, purring as she eats, wolfing the larger morsels with gusto, and he eats his lunch more slowly, sometimes he reads, sometimes he just watches his cat, and glances idly at the passing traffic, secure in the knowledge that if Perdita is there, he’s unlikely to be bothered by anyone.

Allison, in particular, gives him a wide berth. She’s not really much of an animal person Nathan decides. It’s curious, but he’s discovered that he is. He wonders what that actually means in terms of their likely future. Whether their differences will drive them apart as much as their similarities do.

Curiously, the only person who doesn’t give Perdita a wide berth, other than Taggart, is Carter. He’s even gone so far as to ruffle her behind the ears, while her head’s down over her plate, but still, Nathan’s quite surprised that it matters to him that someone isn’t obviously scared of his cat.

 

Life continues much as it did BP (before Perdita), Nathan works long, arduous hours, he’s still irritated by Carter’s black and white approach, scientists still manage to fail to get past Carter which impresses him (not that he would ever say so) as much as it irks him. Allison is still dithering between them, and apparently really hasn’t noticed that he, at least, has pulled back some. 

Nathan finds himself watching and waiting for Jack to make a move, but it never happens, and Nathan will never admit it, but he’s startled by that. He had expected Jack to move in. Now he studies Jack more closely. He’s drawn to Jack, he’s known this from the start, but Jack seemed to want Allison, so Nathan threw himself, heart and soul, into winning Allison back. Because he didn’t want Jack to have her. Now he realises that part of his posturing and arguing with the Sheriff has been “look at me”. He wants Jack to see him. Nathan Stark, Doctor, Doctor and Doctor, and Nobel Laureate.

He’s so very used to his accomplishments coming before other considerations, even his looks, he’s not stupid, he knows he’s attractive; that it’s almost too late before he realises that Jack would be more impressed by his accomplishments and his looks, had he not showed Jack many of the worst (in Jack’s eyes) aspects of his controlling nature.

Nathan needs control. He thrives on it. But he’s starting to realise that is not the relationship he wants with Jack. He’s slightly (only slightly, he hasn’t changed that much) ashamed of where they are. He wants…. No, needs Jack. 

It is humbling that it has taken his genius IQ this long to figure out the simplest thing. Jack’s empathy and intuition balance out Nathan’s brilliance. It actually hurts a little, how much he needs Jack. There’s a touch of fear too. Fear that he’s done too much damage to get what his heart truly wants and needs.

Jack Carter (and his daughter) in Nathan’s life.

 

Jack has to admit that he found it funny when number sixteen was zipping around in Stark’s home office, although the venom spitting episodes he could well have done without.

When Number Sixteen took up residence in Stark’s house, and despite a couple of attempts by Taggart to get the creature back, Nathan resisted, Jack was surprised.

He watches Dr Nathan Stark closely after that, the redacted scientist, Milicent Drake, had called Nathan Stark the world’s only living heart donor, and Jack had agreed. Now he’s seeing something different to what he expected.

The whole town is talking (admittedly in hushed tones, Nathan’s temper is infamous) about Dr Stark’s relationship with his winged feline. Almost everyone has seen Stark in town, feeding his cat on Vincent’s specially ordered and very rare steak. She apparently loves Vincent’s blue cheese dressing, which Jack can relate to, since he loves that himself.

What really surprises Jack is the much softer side to Nathan (and he can call the man Nathan now, even if it’s only in his head). He saw that once before, with Callister. Looking back he can understand why Nathan pulled back behind his protective shields.

Allison.

The more Jack thinks about Allison, and Callister, and Nathan’s devastation at the death of his son, and how the woman who professed to love him couldn’t see past the robot, to the incredible, warm spirit that Nathan’s artificially intelligent being had been, and how deeply Nathan obviously loved the boy (and Jack could call Callister that, because the young man who took care of Zoe while they fled town together, had done that from a place of love).

Love that Callister had to have learned from Nathan.

So Jack watches Nathan closely, and sees more than the scientist is likely even aware of. He sees the caring heart that Nathan hides under layers of armour so thick it’s a surprise he could even see through the shield Nathan protects himself with.

For the first time since they first met, Jack sees Nathan Stark for himself, not through the prism of Allison.

He sees the incredible mind, the decisive shrewdness, the man is tall, dark and very handsome, aware of it (which is strangely appealing, to Jack), confident, he’s the complete package.

Jack sees the less attractive attributes, the controlling and very possessive nature. But even here, he can start to see that controlling his environment, and holding on to that which he has, comes from some deep-seated insecurity which has to come from Nathan’s past.

He does a little digging. He has contacts outside of Eureka still, and since the town is basically a village inside a goldfish bowl, he steps outside the usual boundaries, even going so far as to drive up to Lake Archimedes to call and get the information that he needs.

The report that comes back to him, shocks Jack.

Nathan Howard Stark. 42 years old. Younger half-brother of billionaire weapons genius Tony Stark. Relationship between the brothers almost non-existent due to some family drama involving Nathan’s mother’s attempts to replace Tony’s mother in Howard Stark’s bed and the rest of his life.

Nathan’s mother failed.

She then threw all her efforts into getting her son noticed by his father, mission largely unsuccessful, although Howard had left Nathan a minor legacy in his will.

Jack read between the lines, Nathan’s mother blamed her small son for failing to win his father over to her side. Nathan’s father hardly seemed concerned that his second child was growing up without his input, living with an embittered mother who hardly seemed to care about her child’s emotional well-being. No wonder Nathan had escaped into school work, moved out of his mother’s house (Jack read the emancipation of a minor documents with a sinking heart) and into MIT on a full ride scholarship, how Nathan had earned enough money, and concealed it from his mother, to afford the bus ticket which would take him from his west coast home, to Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Reading between the lines, and finally understanding that Nathan had had a childhood which was at best cold and distant, and at worst actually abusive, included in the file were pictures and a hospital record from when Nathan was four, and had broken his arm. Jack was law enforcement, he knew exactly what the pictures meant. Even aged four, Jack could see the hard, stoic line of young Nathan’s body, holding himself so tight, suspicious of any action which might unmask him.

Howard Stark was still alive back then, he had to have known, even if he wasn’t interested, why he never apparently stepped in to give Nathan a better childhood was a mystery that Jack didn’t want to solve. If he solved it, he might have been tempted to go exhume Stark Senior and then punch his daylights out. Which made no sense since Stark Senior had been dead for many years.

On the back of all these revelations, Jack starts to look at Nathan Stark with fresh eyes.

 

Allison Blake is revolted. She sees her ex-husband forming a relationship of sorts with this winged cat, and she is definitely not happy. The thing is dangerous, although Taggart reassures her that the creature is only mildly venomous. That the creature even possesses venom is something that Allison is not going to deal with. Especially when she finds a dead pheasant in the middle of Nathan’s bed.

She decides that Nathan can keep the cat, but until he comes to his senses, she’s keeping Kevin away from him and that creature.

 

Taggart opens a new file, one which he labels on his computer as Study NSN16. Subject N16 has formed an attachment to Subject NS, and Taggart finds that particularly fascinating. His other fifteen subjects are mostly wary of humans, Taggart’s studies show that they behave in many ways exactly like bats, but that N16 has evolved into a successful lone hunter. Taggart also speculates that N16, whom he designates as Alpha Female, has formed a pride of a kind with NS (Alpha Male, in any genus), with whom she shares her kills. 

Fascinating.

 

Douglas Fargo is ever so slightly unnerved by Dr Stark’s ‘pet’. It (she) seems to want to torment him. He’s particularly disturbed by the furball (with hints of greenish substance which stings his fingers and makes him feel ever so slightly woozy when he touches it) left in his intray.

Fargo doesn’t know how she gets in, but then he’s never really understood how any of the creatures that romp through Global on almost a daily basis, ‘get in’. It’s enough to know that they do. But her arrival usually puts a smile on Dr Stark’s face, even if he’s been glaring and shouting only minutes before.

A smile that’s unusually tender. 

 

Vincent isn’t really sure exactly how he feels about his culinary expertise being utilised in the feeding of felines, but on the other hand, Dr Stark, and Dr Stark’s sort of cat, clearly share a refined palate.

Vincent wonders if it is worth his while to introduce an exclusive menu of nutritionally balanced animal food.

He could begin with cats, and Lojack the dog… Vincent smiles, his culinary creative spark has been piqued, and Vincent can only thank his two favourite patrons for giving him the idea.

 

Henry watches Nathan, and Perdita, and Jack, and Allison. He sees how the dynamic has changed, and in his opinion, changed for the better. Jack and Nathan seem closer to understanding each other.

Henry approves of this change in course. He is fond of Allison, but she and Nathan were never right for each other. He sees Nathan’s reserve and interprets its cause, Nathan wondering if he can ever take that step into something special with Jack in view of their ridiculous rivalry over Allison.

He rather thinks Nathan can, he can see Jack is more tuned in to Nathan now, that Perdita, Nathan’s peculiar pet, has given both men a different perspective on each other.

Then one day, he sees Jack look at Nathan in a different way. There’s sorrow there, and something that Henry can only think is hope. Understanding and caring are present too, and Henry knows they will be alright. Eventually.

All thanks to a black cat with wings…. And sonar.

 

Dr Paula Hindle was disappointed. Dr Nathan Stark was exactly what she needed. Tall, dark, handsome, gifted, he would look well by her side at any function she cared to name, and his brilliance was legendary. A Nobel Laureate at 23.

Now his energies were focussed on a damned animal, and not on how good they would be together. She would have to capture his undivided attention.


End file.
